Prodigal
by Mazula
Summary: "It's rude to gape at people, you stupid-jerk." Were the very first words he said to Nuju when they first met. If only the circumstances were better, maybe then he could look back on that moment and laugh. But he can't. WARNING INSIDE! Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Prodigal.**

_A/N~ Well you all HAD to see this coming. Yep, the origin story I have been DYING to write, the story of my take on how Nuju and Matoro first met and he became Nuju's apprentice. Granted it's not really a canon theory, but more of the story of how it would have happened in my verse! So please enjoy and give constructive reviews!_

_And like my 'Never Forget, Forgive, Forever' fic, this is going to be angsty later on. So fair warning, but it's mostly going to be a bit humorous in the beginning! Enjoy!_

_Song inspiration 'Prodigal' by 'One Republic'_

_Pr-ah-di-gall: Wastefully or recklessly extravagant; one who is wasteful; a waste._

Universe: AU, Humanized!Bionicle.

Pairing(s): N/A

Characters: Matoro, Turaga (all), mentioned other Matoran.

Genre: Angst, humor, hurt/comfort.

This chapter takes place AFTER Matoro's death.

**WARNING! **For future usage of drugs and underage use of alcohol. You have been warned.

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

_I'm on the road,_

_To who knows where?_

_Look ahead, not behind,_

_I keep saying,_

"_There's no place to go_

_Where you're not there,"_

_On your rope, I hold tight,_

_But it's freeing,_

_And I take everything from you,_

_But you'll take anything,_

_Won't you?_

_~Prodigal, One Republic._

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Moving. It was probably one of the top ten most hated things for Nuju. And that's saying something, considering his lengthy list of dislikes. Granted it was considerably shorter than most people would think, but it was still a bit lengthy.

It was always such a hassle, and at least eight out of ten times, when he's unpacking, he's missing at least three or four items. And during the middle of packing, he needs to use something, but it turns out it's taped up and lost in a pile of boxes somewhere. Though surprisingly, the heavy lifting was no problem, considering his mask power. That was the only easy part about moving in his opinion.

But, easy or hard, it didn't exactly help his emotional state of mind like he thought it would…

'_And here I thought packing would take my mind off of it…' _Nuju thought. He sighed.

Of course it was never that easy. If it was, his life would be infinitely easier. He wished the fable that Ko people could turn their emotions off at will was true. If it was, then he could just turn his depression and anguish off like a switch.

But now, he had to live with this deep, throbbing ache in his heart. It made him wish he was as heartless as some made him out to be. But then…if he was heartless, he wouldn't be able to remember that boy fondly.

Nuju scoffed to himself. He wished he was heartless to get rid of this mourning pain, and yet he had no desire for it lest he forget that which was precious to him. He didn't know _what _he wanted anymore…

Nuju frowned to himself as he pushed another box aside to reach his storage closet. No, that was false too. He knew what he wanted. He wanted things to go back to the way they were. He wanted to see his boy again. He wanted…he at least wanted to say goodbye to him…

'_The dead do not come back…' _he had been repeating these words in his head for the past few days now. Since the day he had been told that _he _was dead…

So why couldn't he believe those words?

"Nuju?"

Startled, Nuju veered his head around to look behind himself. He sighed when he caught the sight of a familiar dark red jacket and faded red hair. He was at first confused as to why Vakama was here, but then he remembered the fire Turaga had offered to help him pack for their move back to Metru-nui. Of course, Nuju had declined; he knew Vakama was only using it as an excuse to watch him like a child during his time of mourning.

'_Honestly, does he think I'm going to slit my wrists?' _he thought. Although he wouldn't admit out loud that the thought had more than once crossed his mind…

Nuju sighed, _"What is it Vakama?" _

Tip-toeing over scattered boxes, both empty and full, Vakama stopped in front of his colleague, shifting his staff to his left hand.

"I was merely coming up to check on you. You've been awfully quiet…" he said.

Nuju resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes. Yes he was quiet, of course he was quiet. Did Vakama really expect him to be making much noise? He's putting crap in boxes, not dancing…

"_I am fine Vakama…"_ he said curtly, turning back for his storage closet.

Vakama seemed to take on a dejected look, and Nuju was almost inclined to feel a bit guilty for his clipped tone. Almost.

He sighed again and rubbed his forehead, _"I'm sorry…I'm just…"_

"No, no, it's fine Nuju, really," Vakama said, waving a hand dismissively, "I'm not exactly expecting you to be your usual jolly self after something like this."

Nuju wasn't sure whether he should be insulted or amused by the statement. He chose the latter and cracked just the faintest smirk, tapping the handle of the closet with his index finger. Catching the telltale amusement, Vakama chuckled quietly to himself before nodding to the closet.

"What do you have in there?" He asked, hoping a subject change would lighten the mood.

Nuju shrugged, _"Not a clue. I haven't seen the inside of this thing in years. Not since I first found…" _

His words trailed off, as if his mind had wandered into a distant memory. And quite frankly, that's probably where it was, or so Vakama thought. He knew the look Nuju wore quite well. He always got that strange, hazy look in his ice-core eyes whenever he was remembering something about his lost translator…

The ice Turaga shook his head and turned the knob, opening the door…

And was then nearly pummeled by a rather large box on the top shelf.

"_Gah!" _he cried in surprise as the surprisingly heavy block of cardboard and tape slammed into the meet of his neck and chest, briefly winding him, and knocked him over.

"Nuju…!" Vakama startled, just as surprised from the avalanche of a box and other, smaller, items.

The icy Turaga growled in irritation, now leaning up against the hallway wall with the box sitting innocently in his lap. He scowled down at it, as it he expected it to apologize. Which it did not. If he was an any lesser being, he would swear it was mocking him actually.

Vakama wordlessly shoved away some of the junk and empty boxes waiting to be packed up so he could kneel beside Nuju.

"Are you alright? Nothing broken?" he asked in concern.

"_Just my pride…and my patience." _Nuju hissed, glaring at the odd box.

He raised a brow at it. It was a faded black, almost a dusty grey in color. It wasn't too heavy, but it wasn't exactly light either. It had a top lid instead of the four flaps of cardboard he was expecting, the lid itself old held onto the box by a piece of twine.

Blinking once, Nuju frowned curiously at the box. He in no way recognized it, nor did he recall ever keeping such a peculiar box. But then again, it's been ages since he last saw the inside of the closet it was kept in, so maybe he did use it at one point. It had a weight, so there was obviously something in it.

"Nuju?" Vakama inquired, a bit puzzled by his friend's curious expression.

Nuju ignored him and sat up straight, moving to sit on his knees and place the box in front of him. He reached out and un-twisted the twine on the lid. Once freed from the box, he brushed it aside and took the lid off.

He felt his breath catch in his throat.

Of course…now he remembered…

Vakama watched in slight astonishment as Nuju's once curious expression quickly fell and flitted through various other emotions. Shock, sadness, anger, remorse, and then settling firmly on a blank mask.

His orange eyes watched as Nuju's hands slowly, carefully, reached into the box and slipped under the folded black fabric he was able to make out inside of it. Gently gripping it, he lifted it up and out of the box. Vakama blinked in surprise at what was lifted out.

It was a black long coat with various dark blue belts and loops, a few of which ran across the chest. It was quite weathered and torn in various places, as if it had seen battle. But there was something oddly peculiar about it. It not only was not something Vakama would picture Nuju wearing, but he imagined he wouldn't exactly be able to get an arm into one of the sleeves anyways; it was far too small. It looked like it was once worn by a young Matoran, perhaps a teenager or youngling. A very skinny Matoran now that he was looking at its waistline.

Now curious himself, Vakama looked up at Nuju's blank face with a questioning gaze.

"What is this…?" he asked, a bit uncertain.

Nuju didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned the jacket around so he was looking at its back. Vakama felt himself hitch in a breath.

The back was completely in ribbons, and despite the dark color, Vakama would swear he could see blood on the tattered shreds. What exactly was this thing? Why did Nuju of all people have it in his closet? Wheredid he even get it!?

"Nuju, where in the name of Mata-nui did you-?" Vakama paused when he caught a glimpse of Nuju's eyes from behind his light glared glasses.

If one were to pay close attention, and if they knew Nuju for a certain amount of time, you can easily read the emotions he tries not to express reflected in his eyes. Try as he might, Nuju could not fully hide himself behind a stony facade. His eyes would always be his undoing if he did not catch himself in time.

Just like Matoro's eyes…

And right now, he could see something breaking in those eyes. Something small, almost insignificant, but to Nuju, it was obviously something dear and precious. It was warm and gentle, and yet, it was cold and harsh. It was being distorted by his bitter emotions, like a disease, a plague spreading across a single body as it writhed in agony trying to preserve itself. Trying to fight the stain upon its being…

And yet, it seemed like it was facing a losing battle. It was as if nothing, not even Nuju could fight against the disease known as grief. It planted itself into his fragile heart and rooted itself to his very soul, slowly growing and consuming all he once was. It would continue to grow and fester, until there was nothing left of the Nuju he once knew…

All that would be left was an empty shell.

Vakama felt a shiver run up and down his spine like a Jacobs Ladder. The mere thought of Nuju eating himself alive from the inside out with his own emotions was frightening. Thinking about what he could become in the end was even more terrifying though.

And all because he lost the one person who kept such seeds of despair out of his heart. The gardener that tended to his fragile emotions, who tore down the thickets of emotionlessness, and bravely tore away the thorns of doubt that would creep and crawl around his icy heart. But he was gone, and it seemed his death was nothing but fertilizer for all of the sadness and despair now festering in Nuju's body.

The once beautiful garden that was painstakingly, yet lovingly, cultivated in Nuju's heart would have been ravaged by those weeds. And yet, for some reason, this odd jacket was both bringing the old Eden back to life, and yet it was also fueling the dark and twisted flora trying to consume him.

It was baffling to Vakama. A simple, unknown article of clothing was making Nuju feel so many things all at once.

But…judging by its size, the torso length, and the waistline…

"Is…" he started hesitantly, "Is this…Matoro's?"

The sudden flash of cascading emotions in his eyes nearly made Vakama jump. He was honestly quite a bit concerned by all these feelings flashing in and out of Nuju's eyes. All brought on by either simple words or the jacket.

But it was obvious it was tied to both Nuju and Matoro. Nuju would never hold any other emotional connection to any item unless it was tied to Matoro, or his lost mentor, Ihu.

Releasing a shaky breath, Nuju lowered the torn jacket until his elbows were aligned with his waist, his face unchanging but his eyes expressing so much.

"Yes…"

This time, Vakama did in fact jump a bit. He was astonished and worried, if not a bit startled now. It was extremely rare that Nuju would just outright _talk! _Since when did he start talking like this out of nowhere? Did the memory tied to that jacket really run so deep?

Was…was he really this distraught…?

Vakama dry swallowed as he tried to collect himself. He was somewhat torn between getting Nuju away from his little memory lapse in fear of him suffering, but he also wanted him to hang onto those unknown memories. Heaven knows he needs just a bit of hope in these times, despite the circumstances. Nuju needed something he could draw comfort from; and if he didn't want it from Vakama, the fire Turaga was not going to deny him getting it from painful reminiscing.

Although…he had to wonder…

"I never ah…" He started, uncertain, "Saw him wear it before. It doesn't seem like something he'd wear, actually…"

It…really wasn't, honestly. Vakama couldn't recall a time Matoro ever wore so much black or dark blue. He was such a bright, light hearted little thing, always donned in soft, light colors of white and light blues that matched his eyes. But this…the black, the dark midnight blue, all the buckles and chains; he could only imagine some street punk wearing it. And the torn hole in its back…

Nuju shook his head, "I'm not surprised," he started, "This is what he wore before he met you and the others…"

The icy man's eyes seemed to cloud over again, this time with a very indistinct haze. It was like he was looking into limbo, his very core at a stand-still with time itself.

"Before I brought him up to Mata-nui to join the others…"

Vakama felt a very strange sensation course from his stomach and up into his throat. It wasn't so much as a sick feeling, or an uncomfortable one, as much as it was just…strange. Almost uneasy, like he had just narrowly avoided something. It was quite a bit disconcerting.

'_Wait, before he brought him to Mata-nui to join the others…?' _he thought, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"You…say it as if he wasn't up here with us during the-"

"The move from Metru-nui to Mata-nui," Nuju interrupted calmly, "And you're right…"

Again, that odd feeling arises in Vakama's throat, and he can feel a small sense of impending dread rise within him.

"Are…are you saying Matoro wasn't with the Matoran we rescued?" he asked, now quite a bit uncomfortable, if not confused.

Nuju shook his head, "No, he was not," He said, then fixed Vakama a slightly unimpressed look, "You didn't notice how he just seemed to pop up out of nowhere when I first brought him around?"

Vakama was unsure if he should be relieved Nuju was acting like his old snarky self, or take offence. Though at the same time, he was contemplative.

Yes, Matoro did in fact kind of come in out of nowhere. When Nuju first introduced him to them as his translator and apprentice, he and the others were shocked to find he knew Nuju's language right off the bat. And yet, none of them could ever recall Nuju saying, or even hinting, of teaching anyone in the art of the bird language. The few times they have gone to his home, there was no sign of Matoro, or any hint of Nuju even looking for an apprentice.

At first they all thought nothing of it. Nuju was a very discreet man after all. For all they knew, he had been tutoring Matoro from the start and they just weren't paying attention.

But now that Nuju brought it up…

The mental image of a cartoon character hitting himself with a giant mallet with the words 'oblivious idiot' labeled on it suddenly came to Vakama's mind…

Next came the mental image of the mallet having the words 'wake-up call' on it. But he wasn't about to acknowledge that one.

But now Vakama was frowning in obvious confusion at the new information. They never questioned where Matoro had come from in the first place, and Nuju had openly admitted he wasn't in the ranks of Matoran they had rescued. This raised a question.

"Where was his pod then?" he asked.

Nuju quirked a snowy brow at him, unfazed, "I never said anything about him being in a pod."

If the fire Turaga gave any outward show of just how shocked he was by this, Nuju didn't say so. Although Vakama had a very sneaking suspicion he was doing a very good job in making himself look like an idiot. No self-respecting Turaga should _ever _experience this much shock and outwardly show it in the span of under an hour. It just wasn't proper!

Vakama suddenly startled a bit – this shock cannot be healthy – when Nuju suddenly sighed and stood up, setting the jacket into the box before picking it up in his arms. Without averting his gaze from it, he expertly weaved through the maze of boxes and items towards his living room. It took a moment for Vakama to process that he was, in fact, now alone sitting in a hallway before he got up and followed his colleague with much less grace.

If Dume were here, he would spit on how un-Turaga like he has been asking in the past twenty minutes…

He no sooner found Nuju sitting on the lone couch in what used to be a very pristine living room. The large den was mostly dominated by piles of boxes, a few propped up pictures and other wall décor, and of course the lone dark blue couch. The small coffee table that sat in front was piled on with only a small fraction of Nuju's vast collection of books. The rest took up the back wall in a surprisingly colorful array of book spines and titles.

Currently, whether subconsciously or not, the books on the table were being lifted telepathically and set down on the floor in stacks. The dark box was set onto the polished wood, other smaller items having been produced from it and set out. Sad to say Vakama was, once again, a bit disconcerted about the contents and…

Was that a _gun?_

'_Since when has Nuju ever kept a gun!?' _he thought a bit frantically.

"Ah…Nuju…?" he started a bit hesitantly.

"Hm…" was his distracted response.

"Can you please help me sort out the sudden chaos that is now my brain?" Vakama asked with a slightly clipped tone, "I am _seriously_ a bit lost by all this information, or more lack thereof."

A moment passed where Nuju did nothing but just stare at the contents of the box now laying on the table. If Vakama wasn't so focused on the gun, he would have noticed the knife, the lighter, the rolled up case holding unknown items, the small metal case, the half of what was likely once a crowbar, and the few empty bullet shells now scattered on the table. But no, he was too focused on _the damn gun._

A slow blink of ice-core irises later, and Nuju seemed to gain back some semblance of awareness. He was still holding the jacket in clutched hands as his head lifted to lock onto the back wall. He gently lowered the jacket into his lap, his hands still tense around it, but the rest of his body seemingly limp.

"Vakama…" he started, startling the other.

"Erm, yes…?"

"In the cabinet behind you, there's a decanter and a few glasses," Nuju said calmly, leaning back into the couch, "Bring them here."

Vakama took a very brief moment to contemplate telling Nuju to get off his lazy ass and get them himself. Although, judging by the very discreet and very narrow gaze he was fixing that poor wall, this probably wasn't the time to be offended. Because if he decided to be stupid and voice this, that gaze would lock onto him, and then his head could possibly explode!

'_I need to be doing other things besides hanging out with Matau on weekends…' _he thought dejectedly.

None the less, he found the named cabinet with glass doors, all but some glasses and a single decanter packed up elsewhere. He grabbed two glasses and brought the decanter back to the table. He eyed the gold liquid inside of it with a raised brow. Nuju wasn't exactly one for alcohol, he rarely ever drank to begin with. He would have the occasional glass of wine at celebrations or events, but outside of that, he wasn't a drinker. Vakama couldn't ever recall a time where Nuju was buzzed, let alone drunk. It was making him wonder just how old the drink was, and therefore how potent it would be…

Well, if he didn't get answers, maybe they could at least get a bit buzzed and relax a bit.

He now wondered what kind of drunk Nuju would be…

Without saying a word, Nuju picked up the decanter, removing tis glass stopper, and filled one of the glasses. He tossed the first one back into his mouth, causing Vakama to wince slightly, before he filled it again along with the second. He motioned for Vakama to sit down as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Only Dume, the Rahaga, and I know of what really became of Matoro before he was brought to Mata-nui." He said, sipping his drink at a much more sedate pace.

Vakama cautiously sat beside him and picked up his own drink. He took a tentative sip and nearly choked; wow, this stuff was potent! He near felt like his throat had been burnt raw. How the hell did Nuju toss back that full glass and not pass out?

"What do you mean?" Vakama asked once he regained his bearings, "And why would they not tell us? Why would _you _not tell us?"

Nuju swirled his glass between his hands, his wrists perched his knees and over the jacket. He seemed to stare off a bit before he answered.

"Because Matoro made me swear not to tell you all…" he said quietly, "He was afraid you would treat him differently…and he was ashamed…"

Vakama blinks, "Ashamed? Whatever for? The boy was an angel, why would any of us ever look at him as anything but?"

Vakama could almost swear he saw a brief shudder run up Nuju's back. But it was gone in under a second. Nuju shook his head with a rueful smile.

"Oh if only you knew…" he said, shaking his head.

Vakama frowned slightly at the oddity of Nuju's expression, setting his drink down.

"I would _like_ to know…" he started carefully, "What exactly happened? What _is _all of this anyways?"

He gestured to the items on the table with a sweep of his hand. Nuju followed his hand dazedly before fixing on the rout iron bar beside the box. He picked it up carefully and stared at its curved end.

"You know, he never went anywhere without this thing," he said, before he chuckled mirthlessly, "I can't tell you how many times he's nearly took my head off with it, intentionally or otherwise. Though usually it was on purpose."

Vakama felt like he had stepped into some other worldly dimension. It took every ounce of mental power for him to imagine Matoro wielding a weapon, and even more so in a threating way. He was not…no, scratch that, Matoro was _incapable _of seeming dangerous. Not possible. If Vakama couldn't see it in his head, it can't be done. And this was _Matoro _they were talking about, right? Or did they somehow get off track and were talking about some brutish Po-Matoran?

"Nuju, I would honestly appreciate some clarification here, as well as some sense," Vakama said, feeling a slight headache coming on.

Although the throbbing instantly vanished with the look Nuju fixed him with. It was a look one gets when they are plotting another person's death, and the fact that Nuju was holding a piece of a broken crowbar was _not _helping in his discomfort. It was probably worse that he didn't even turn his head to look at him, he just turned his eyes while his head remained looking ahead. It only made the look more intimidating…

"Um…" he started dumbly, "I did not mean-"

"You honestly want to _know?_" Nuju suddenly asked.

Vakama blinked, his expression openly stupefied; he looked like he had just been slapped. He was asking this _now? _After all of the obvious confusion, Nuju had to _ask_ Vakama if he honestly wanted to _know?_

'_Either the drink is stronger than I thought, or he doesn't want me to know about this.' _He thought.

"Honestly Nuju, yes, I _do_ want to know," he said, "But if it is something private…"

Nuju shook his head, "No…no, it's not so much as private as it is just…personal…"

"Isn't that all the more reason I shouldn't know?" Vakama inquired with a raised brow.

Nuju did not answer, instead he set the bar down and looked down at the jacket draped over his lap. He ran a finger over the torn and tattered collar, his other hand smoothing down one of the belts across the chest. His face suddenly became sullen, heartbroken.

It felt like the air had gone thick. It was a bit harder to breathe now, and a harsh weight was bearing down on Vakama's chest. And he didn't even know why! Is this what Nuju felt every time he saw something that reminded him of Matoro? How is he still in one piece?

"Nuju…?" he probed gently, now quite concerned for Nuju.

Biting his lower lip, Nuju clutched at the jacket.

"Matoro…" he started, "Matoro was…a very, very different person before I found him. He was…he was very hurt."

"Hurt?" Vakama inquired, "Like he was injured?"

"No," Nuju said, "Although, he would rather a thousand physical injuries to his body than the turmoil he went through."

The odd sensation Vakama had felt not even ten minutes ago once again washed over him. He was starting to wonder if Nuju had some other kind of power besides telekinesis. Like mental and emotional manipulation. It would explain a few things…

But as it stands, this was obviously something very deep, and therefore very personal to Nuju. Matoro may be dead now, but that didn't mean his memory had to die with him. Good or bad, he deserved to be remembered. And maybe it was his selfish curiosity, but he needed to know just what was playing out in Nuju's mind.

"Tell me what happened." He said quietly, but with a sense of finality.

Nuju gave Vakama an uncertain look. But the determination and sense of willing in his orange eyes seemed to give him some form of strength.

Drawing in a deep breath, Nuju sat back and recounted his tale…

To be continued…

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_A/N~ Ugh, first chapter. Took me a damn week to write this thing. And I STILL don't like how it came out! It seems to choppy to me, and it doesn't seem to flow as smoothly as I had hoped. Bah, whatever, the juicy stuff is to come later! XD_

_REVIEW PLEASE~!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Prodigal.**

Ch. 2

Missing.

_A/N~ Oh my GOD. I actually finished this yesterday afternoon, but I COMPLETELY forgot to publish it! WTF? I wasn't THAT tired! LAWL_

Universe: AU, Humanized!Bionicle.

Pairing(s): N/A

Characters: Matoro, Turaga (all), mentioned other Matoran.

Genre: Angst, humor, hurt/comfort.

NOTICE! The chapters from here on out will take place in the past! BEFORE Matoro became Nuju's assistant. Timeframes will have a notice so you all don't get confused. Thank you!

**WARNING!** For future usage of drugs and underage use of alcohol. You have been warned.

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

If there was one thing Nuju hated above all things, it was sloppiness.

He _loathed _it. His major pet peeve (or at least one of them) was when someone put less than one hundred and ten percent into any one task. If you did something and didn't come out shedding blood, sweat, or tears, or at least come out with a migraine, you didn't try hard enough.

However, what he hated even more than sloppiness was sloppiness from _himself_.

The single sheet of paper sitting innocently on his desk was now, officially, the very bane of his existence. The poor piece of pulped wood was being stared down into with razor sharp eyes. One would half expect holes to suddenly appear in the paper before drilling in straight through his desk. The paper itself was labeled and showed various names and numbers. Beside each name was a checkbox, each box was checked, and the name and number highlighted.

All except one…

The simple fact he just now noticed this not even a few days ago was enough to make him want to throw his very nice desk through a wall. The fact there were more problems to this than he thought was making him want to strangle himself. And…

Knock, knock, knock!

"Um, sir?"

And the fact that he's heard this voice at least_ eight times_ in the past week has him considering mass murder.

Though it wasn't the Matoran himself he was frustrated at, it was what he was assigned to do that was annoying him.

"_Ugh…" _he groaned, slipping the paper under a few files on his desk, _"Come in…" _

Despite the language barrier between them, Nuju was at the very least able to get his point across to some Matoran if they paid attention. Plus, it helped to carry some paper and a pen should his instructions become too lengthy to explain through mere gestures…

It still pissed him off though. He would kill for a translator…

The Matoran, Kopeke his name was, meekly entered the office and shut the door behind himself. His oversized-sweater clad arms held a clipboard with at least ten sheets of paper clipped to it, all of them bearing names, numbers, and checkmarks.

"Um, I redid the head count again and, well…" the Matoran trailed off, as if afraid Nuju was going to somehow explode on him. Which wouldn't be too much of a stretch at this point in all honesty.

"_And?" _

"And everyone is accounted for," The Matoran said, lowering his clipboard, "No more, and no less."

Nuju's hands tightened around his staff at the words. He was to the point where he wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs in utter frustration and, though he would never admit it, worry. And it was all because he was missing a single Matoran! It was baffling!

"_Count them again." _He growled. The Matoran sighed, all too familiar with this particular pattern of whistles and clicks by now.

"Sir, we've counted everyone _at least_ eight times now," He said, "I honestly don't think a recount would change anything."

Nuju felt a painful throbbing in his left temple at this. Though he had to agree with the Matoran; there was no sense in wasting time in recounting Matoran to try and find a single individual who was very likely not among his people…

"Um, sir?" Kopeke started nervously, wringing his hands.

Nuju hummed in acknowledgment, and Kopeke shuffled his feet.

"Um, why exactly are we doing these headcounts?" he asked, "Is someone missing…?" (1)

The grey and white Matoran startled at the sharp look Nuju gave him. Nuju didn't need to write down what he was feeling to get his point across; he didn't want to talk about it. Or more, it was none of his business. And Kopeke was going to obey this silent scolding.

Nuju held his hand out stiffly, and after a moment of confusion, the Matoran passed him the clipboard with all the Ko-Matoran names listed on it. Nuju flipped through the pages, finding all listed names had a checkmark next to them, obviously showing the Matoran were all in the village and present. Setting it aside, he gestured with his hand for Kopeke to leave, which he did all too happily.

Once he was gone, Nuju took out the single sheet of paper he had been glaring holes into previously. It was a copy of the very last page on the clipboard, but this one was very unique. And it was the reason he was constantly taking headcount, and _hadn't_ sent out a search party. (2)

No name.

Just a number.

Number 142. The Matoran that's been missing for an entire year…

It was astonishing to Nuju. Just a week ago, he had finally decided to clear out his old files to make room for his more current work papers and files. He eventually ran across the list of Matoran names Dume had given him and his fellow Turaga before their move to Mata-nui. Feeling curious, and to maybe memorize some names he probably didn't know of, Nuju went through the whole list. But it was when he reached the very back did he take notice of something. (3)

The papers were printed on both front and back. And just as he was on the last page, he noticed a strange shadow at the top of the page behind the name on it. He turned it over, expecting to see a stain, but instead found a single number printed at the top. He at first thought nothing of it, thinking it was a typo or something. But as the days progressed, he started to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. So he decided to do a headcount of his village, just to be safe.

All were accounted for.

But it still didn't cure the odd feeling. If anything, it made his unease worse! When he first went over the list, the last back page had only been filled out on one side, not both, or so he thought. But a year later, he finds the papers again, and finds not a name, but just a number, and no checkmark next to it, was printed on the back. So he took another head count the next day. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day…

And with each headcount, his unease, and the Matoran's suspicions, only got worse. Nuju was nearing his breaking point, and Matoran were starting to grow suspicious of what might be going on with all these headcounts.

But there were absolutely no clues as to who the Matoran was, or where he could be. Nuju was starting to consider that maybe the supposed Matoran didn't even exist. But it didn't make sense! There was no information, no name, nothing! He had personal files on all of his Matoran, all of them from Dume himself. He had managed, Mata-nui only knows how, to miraculously pull up every Matoran's name and file history in Metru-nui, and list them off for Nuju and the others. And as run down as the city was, the technology in Dume's possession was nothing to shake ones head at. (4)

Nuju didn't ask Dume about the lack of a name on the list he was given, he hadn't noticed it at the time. But now, he noticed it, and he was _worried_. He _would _have considered going to the others, or even better, Dume himself, for help in this, but the problem is…

It's been a damn _year! _No one except Nuju knew about this, and he only just found out a week ago he was possibly missing someone! Not even the Matoran who took all those headcounts knew about it, and none dared to ask Nuju, though he knew they were starting to consider it if Kopeke was any sort of hint to that. And like _hell_ Nuju was going to tell the others. He was _not _going to tell them he had been missing someone for an entire year and only just now realized it. (5)

And oh Nuju would rue the day he would go to Dume and tell him he had lost one of his former charges_._ No, despite his grumpy attitude, Nuju quite enjoyed being alive, thank you. (6) He was not in the least bit interested in committing suicide by admitting this to Dume. No, he would _find _this Matoran _on his own_ and never mention the situation ever again. _EVER._

…he just had to figure out where to look…

And there was only one person he could go to for help and not worry about the situation reaching Dume's ears…

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

"A YEAR!?"

Nuju couldn't help but cringe, but gave no other outward sign of his nervousness. Honestly, he wanted to kick himself right now. He felt like a misbehaved child being chastised by an adult.

Granted, Kualus was older than him, and Nuju did in a way see him as his teacher, but it still felt kind of weird. (7)

He sighed, _"Yes, a year. And I know, it was stupid not to notice sooner and to wait a whole week to bring it up, but I didn't know what to do! What did you expect me to do?"_

"Uh, get help from others like a _logical _person would?" Kualus countered a bit patronizingly.

Nuju grit his teeth and groaned. Yes, he was an idiot for holding off for this long, he didn't need to rub it in! He already felt like an idiot for waiting so long, but he freaked out! Or as much as one would expect Nuju to freak out. He basically just shut the problem out and forced his brain into denial.

He honestly did not think that being a Turaga could be even more stressful than being a Toa. But now, he would take fighting an army Visorac over being responsible for an entire village in a heartbeat! Nuju actually now looked at Dume with a much deeper respect once he realized this. How did he do all of this on a daily basis!? Compared to Dume, Nuju's job was nothing! The man managed an entire _city_ for Mata-nui's sake! Nuju had _nothing _to complain about!

But even still, he _panicked._ Because he was _missing _someone. Yet he somehow convinced himself he was doing great, because at every meeting, he would see how disheveled and flustered the others were with their new responsibilities. He's heard rumors of at least one or two of them cracking under the pressure. They were getting better now, but they were still new to this. But no, not him! Not perfect, composted, calm Nuju. Nope, he was completely, perfectly, and utterly, _fine_.

…but he was _missing someone!_

"_Kualus, look…" _he tried, getting a bit frustrated now, _"Yes, I screwed up, yes I probably hashed this up to Karzahni and back, but I am BEGGING you! Don't. Tell. Dume!"_

"Nuju…you are asking quite a bit of me here," Rasped Kualus, his propellers and spikes twitching with his nerves, "There is a _missing Matoran_ somewhere, that's been missing for _a whole year!_ And you're asking me to keep my mouth shut? I know you're prideful, but Nuju, I never expected you to be _stupid._"

Nuju wanted to strangle the other. But he didn't. He knew he was asking for something incredibly stupid, but _damn it_, if the others caught wind of this, he will _never _hear the end of it! It will follow him to his god damn _grave!_ And Dume…oh dear Spirits above and beyond, that man will _never _let him live it down. He will be _livid _if he knew one of his old charges has been missing for so long!

"We have to tell the others and-"

"_Are you MAD!? Dume will KILL me!" _Nuju exclaimed, how thoroughly flustered.

"Ugh, no he won't! He'll be pissed as Karzahni, yes, but-"

"_If he so much as heard one of his Matoran were missing for TEN MINUTES he'd lob off my leg and shove them up my ass!" _Nuju snapped.

"Uh, gross, and no, he _won't!_" Kualus said in exasperation, rubbing his sloped forehead (8), "Nuju…we cannot keep this to ourselves! Someone is going to find out, and I will not be caught in the fray as an accomplice!"

"_Kualus, PLEASE…" _Nuju rasped, clapping his hands together with a pleading gaze.

Despite his pride, Nuju was not above begging at this point. And it was to Kualus, a close friend of his, and someone he knew was not below blackmail. Holding favors over one's head, maybe, but he wasn't one to use another's weakness against them. Often…

"_Just help me. Give me twenty four hours - the next! - twenty four hours to try and find this Matoran," _Nuju started, _ "And if we come up empty handed, I swear, I PROMISE, I will go to Dume for proper help in this, and exclude you from this whole fiasco. Just __**please**__…give me a chance."_

Kualus sighed and pinched the shallow bridge of his flat nose. Honestly, it was simply _amazing _how stubborn Nuju was. Not to mention how prideful he was. He was actually more shocked Nuju didn't notice this sooner! He thought he was smarter than this!

But even so, he could sense a very strong undertone of deep worry in Nuju. The ice Turaga was obviously worried about this Matoran, if for no other reason than that the Matoran could be hurt or worse. Kualus couldn't blame him for that, but there were a few problems they both didn't exactly want to face.

"Nuju…you do realize if the Matoran is in fact lost, and still in his canister…" he started carefully, "I don't…the canisters were not built to sustain a life for a long period of time. Even if we did find him, chances are, he won't be alive…"

Nuju felt a shudder climb up his spine. He was quite aware of the information. The canisters Teridax imprisoned everyone in were built to sap energy and keep them in stasis for a small amount of time, perhaps a week at best. If one were kept in their canister for too long, they would remain comatose. The body would go into survival mode and start to break down organs and body parts to sustain itself. But in time, the body will shut down and start to decompose before it died. (9)

Sadly, Nuju only found out this information not even a day after he noticed he was possibly missing someone. Whenua had been tinkering with one of the pods in the hope of finding a way to restore the Matoran to their original forms. No luck on that, but he did find out the previous information and how they worked, and disclosed all information to his fellow Turaga at a meeting. They were lucky they got the Matoran to Mata-nui before the one week expiration date. Though sad to say, Nuju left the meeting looking much paler than he usually was…

But it's been almost a week since Nuju noticed someone missing, and a whole year that the Matoran had legitimately been missing…

"_I…I know, Kualus," _he said sadly, _"But if he is in fact dead, he at least deserves to be found and given proper burial. It's…the least I can do to make up all this lost time for him…" _

Kualus sighed through his nose, his beastly face contorted into a forlorn frown. Well, he couldn't really argue with the sentiment. But the fact remained that Metru-nui was dangerous! It was crawling with huge, dangerous Rahi. Karzahni, there might not even be a body to find anymore! All the Rahi that didn't migrate to Mata-nui were practically rabid scavengers now. (10)

But Nuju was right in a sense. The Matoran deserved to be found, or at least his pod. In fact, it would be best to find out if someone was actually missing. The fact that Nuju had no files on this Matoran, no name, and no records was a very keen indication that this person may not even exist. But Nuju's instincts were telling him otherwise, and the man rightfully prided himself on his tuition. It wouldn't hurt to be safe and just check and see if they missed anyone. If they didn't, great, problem solved. But if they did…well…he tried not to think about it.

Mentally groaning, Kualus finally relented. Besides, even if he said no, Nuju was likely to go out and try and find this Matoran himself. He was just as, if not more, stubborn than a Po-Matoran…

"Okay…okay, fine," he said, "We'll look for this Matoran on our own. But should we come up empty handed in the next twenty-four hours, you _will_ go to Dume and figure this mess out with him."

If Nuju didn't have as much self-preservation, pride, and knew he'd most likely be bitten by the other, he would have hugged Kualus. But he didn't; Nuju did not _hug_ damn it.

"_Thank you Kualus…" _he rasped gratefully.

"Yeah, yeah, you owe me one…" the white Rahaga sighed.

Nodding once, Nuju followed his companion down into the city from their meeting point, determination clearly visible on his face.

And so the search began…

To be continued…

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

_A/N~ Eh, a slightly shorter chapter I suppose, but now the juicy stuff gets to happen later now! X3_

_Also, just to clarify, the rest of this fic, at least up until the last couple ones, take place in the past long before Matoro became Nuju's apprentice. Just to clarify, this scene takes place beforehand. I know some people can get a bit confused by this, so there you go._

_Next chapter!_

_We shall find Nuju and Kualus searching high and low for the supposed missing Matoran, but they instead find trouble! But they later find their collective asses saved by a strange, black swathed being with piercing blue eyes and snowy white hair…_

_Tune in next time!_

_1-) to clarify, NO ONE, except Nuju and Kualus know that a Matoran is missing. If Nuju were to let out that someone was missing under his watch, not only would his pride be severely damaged, but panic could ensure. Not to mention Dume would have his ass if he found Nuju was missing one of his former charges..._

_2-) We all know the missing Matoran is Matoro, but Nuju doesn't. We will find out later just WHY Matoro did not have a name or any other information attached down the line~ *spooky fingers* this is also why Nuju can't send out a search party; he has no idea who this Matoran is, or if he even exists._

_3-) In this, the island of Mata-nui has been inhabited for a full year. However, Nuju did not know someone was missing up until a week ago. He didn't notice the last number on the back of the last page since, at first glance, anyone would assume it blank since it had only one number on it. The names were printed on both sides of all the papers, so if only one word or number was left hanging by itself on one side, it would be VERY easy to miss._

_4-) I seemed to notice that, comparing the first and second movie together, that the tech in both movies is VASTLY different. I remember seeing Whenua (as a Toa) using a kind of datapad scanner on a Matoran pod to check the Matoran's health status, but also remembered that the people on Mata-nui use stone slabs as ways of writing and documenting. Though in this AU, paper is common, but I was rather intrigued by the technical differences in the two movies. Though it DOES make sense; Mata-nui is all wilderness, they HAD to go back to basics. I can only imagine how the Turaga had to adjust, but I bet the Matoran had no problem with the arrangements since they were basically starting over completely._

_5-) Let's face it guys, if you just realized you were missing something VERY vital for a long period of time and just NOW realized it, you'd be kind of apprehensive too. ESPECIALLY if it's a living being. It's not exactly something one would casually bring up. Though granted, it would be best, but again, it's not something you can just flat out bring up, especially after so long._

_6-) Being a veteran Turaga, I'm willing to bet Dume took his job VERY seriously, especially considering he was in charge of not one, but SIX Metrus. For Nuju, who is practically a 'child' compared to him, to tell him he lost someone for a full year would be like sticking your hand into a very, very pissed off lion's mouth._

_7-) In this, the Rahaga are still, well, Rahaga and drift in and out of Metru-nui. My head canon is that Nuju and Kualus are quite close, or as close as Nuju will allow to a degree, and have a sort of establish friendship. To describe my take on the Rahaga, think of the lizard man in terms of the facial structure and overall physical build, but not nearly as bulky, no tail, having a not as scary face, less fangs, and no scales. Their 'propellers' in this are basically like dragonfly wings, but they spin like helicopter blades and fold up into a single sheath down their backs when not in use. Kualus has white, spiked back hair with very fine, hard spikes like a porcupine. The shifting of these spikes are a very good way to tell what he is feeling, much like a bird that shifts its feathers with its mood._

_8-) A good visual for the Rahaga's faces would be a lot like Pitch Black's (from Rise of the Guardians) face; nose sloping up into the forehead, narrow face, etc, but the nose and foreheads are flatter. And their heads are a bit more pointed down towards the chin._

_9-) I find this theory of mine VERY reasonable honestly. Teridax hadn't originally intended to keep the Matoran comatose for long to begin with, so it's safe to assume the canisters were not built to sustain them for long term. Plus, the canisters had already drained their energy and shrank the Matoran into weaker forms, they wouldn't be able to survive long to begin with. A week to month is the longest I believe would be the best point before reaching an expiration date. Beyond that, the body would naturally go into survival mode and break down tissue, organs, fat, and in this case, armor and other metallic components. Basically the body eats itself alive to survive and prolong death, which is a bit counterproductive, but also a natural reaction._

_10-) the Bionicle wikis have in fact stated that the majority Rahi of Metru-nui have migrated up to Mata-nui. But I wouldn't count on ALL of them following up to the surface._


	3. Chapter 3

**Prodigal.**

Ch. 3

Found.

_A/N~ Hahaha man what am I doing? I got so much sh** to be doing right now. Why am I doing this? Hahahaha…_

_**ALSO! ALMOST FORGOT!**_

_The reason I chose Matoro's number to be 142, is because the number itself adds up to all the pieces of his Matoran and two Toa forms. I was originally going to go for a random number because…well, I couldn't figure out a number that would connect cognitively with him. But as I was going over one of the wikis, I noticed they had a list of his sets and the number of building pieces they had in them. I suddenly thought, 'hey this could work!' and poof. I got a plausible number! I'm pretty sure there are at least maybe a couple hundred Matoran per Koro. Metru-nui was huge after all. _

_Also! The only set NOT included in the equation was the McDonalds set, which consisted of six parts I think, not counting the disks they came with. So his Inika Toa set (47 pieces), his Mahri Toa set (62 pieces), and his 2003 Matoran set (25 pieces). There you go, I just did a MATH equation in one of MY fics._

…_and I __**HATE**__ math! WTF? XD_

Universe: AU, Humanized!Bionicle.

Pairing(s): N/A

Characters: Matoro, Turaga, Rahaga, mentioned other Matoran.

Genre: Angst, humor, hurt/comfort.

**WARNING!** For future usage of drugs and underage use of alcohol. You have been warned.

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

Kualus was starting to wonder if he had pissed off some higher power at some point. This could not be something he could easily put under the 'destiny' category…

'_Whoever it was that I pissed off, I'm sorry! Really, I am! But seriously? This is just a cruel, not to mention beyond unusual, punishment…' _he thought to himself.

Currently the mutant being was hovering around a few outcrops of debris, turning over random slabs of wood and metal. He probably should be putting a bit more effort into this 'search', but really, he was starting to lose all sense of determination. If he was honest with himself, he was actually waiting for the promised twenty-four hours to end so Nuju could get actual help in this. Yes, the icy Turaga would probably be killed by Dume as a result, but that's not his problem now is it?

Kualus sighed, letting go of the edge of a metal sheet and letting it flop back down onto the sand. Oh who was he kidding? This was ridiculous! But he wasn't about to just abandon Nuju and go to Dume himself. For one thing, he was far too loyal for his own good. And for another, Nuju could probably just pull him back with that damn mask of his then tie him up somewhere. He has already been tied up once in his life, he didn't need to be tied up again, thank you _very _much. (1)

"Ugh, how do we even know we're searching in the right place? Metru-nui is huge! For all we know, his pod could be somewhere else!" he yelled over to Nuju.

The Turaga sighed in exasperation, cutting off his mask power and causing the rather impressively large chunk of debris to fall back into place with a loud thud.

"_We don't, which is why we're starting off in the most obvious places." _He hissed.

Kualus groaned to himself. By obvious, Nuju meant Ko-metru, the basement of the Coliseum where the pods were first stored, and pretty much anywhere else the pods once were. As well as one other plausible place.

Case in point, the shore of the Protodermis Sea.

Kualus was actually quite surprised Nuju wanted to start off here. It wasn't an 'obvious' place, but it was where, from what he heard, Nuju and his team had lost a few pods when they were evacuating. (2) Nuju had told Kualus of this unfortunate event before they left and figured it was the best place to start. If this Matoran was missing because they lost the pod at sea, there were only three places it could go.

It would have either one, washed up on shore. Two, sunk. Or three, drifted out to sea, which would inevitably lead to option two. Nuju was pretty sure the pods weren't built to float for long voyages…

But this also brought up the possibility of never finding the pod in the first place. Searching Metru-nui was one thing. It was another to search the damn sea, in which case Dume's help would be useless even if they told him. Hell, the man would probably make the entire situation worse and label Nuju a murderer. And as frustrating as this whole thing was, Kualus wasn't about to let it go _that _far. Nuju was anything but someone who would purposefully hurt someone, let alone kill. And Dume did have a reputation for overreacting, so that would only make things even worse.

It was no wonder the man had high blood pressure. The others were just waiting for the day he ruptured an artery because he saw a stain on the floor…

But he digressed. As much as Kualus wanted to hit Nuju upside the head with a lead pipe, he wasn't about to abandon the man on this ridiculous quest.

"Wouldn't the most obvious place be back at the Coliseum?" Kualus inquired.

Nuju fixed him a look that could be best described as a mix between a scowl and a disbelieving look. Obviously he wanted to avoid that place for two reasons. One, Dume was there. And two, because Dume was there, and if he caught them in the act, he would grind down their (Nuju's) bones to dust to add to his afternoon tea. (3)

'_Well that was a pleasant thought…' _Kualus shuddered at his own mental implication.

"_Look, I am only trying to rule out one of the possibilities," _Nuju sighed, _"And if it means spending my day turning over every damn shell on this beach and beyond, so be it!"_

Kualus noticed a very nice looking pipe sticking out of the sand behind him. It was a very lovely pipe. Maybe if he carefully snuck over to it, he could use it as a means to escape this Mata-nui damned idiocy…

'_I swear to the Spirits, if I have to spend my day digging for someone who may not even exist, I am going to-!' _Kualus paused and blinked, staring down into the sand at his feet.

He blinked again and rubbed at his eyes. He looked down again. Nope, still there. He crouched down and leaned over. He sniffed at the small pile of berries and frowned. What was a pile of Bula berries doing on the beach? That was just completely random, not to mention strange. He couldn't think of any Rahi that would do such a thing, and he was pretty sure Dume wasn't so bored as to put food in random places for no reason.

Reaching out to pick one up, he turned his neck slightly and called, "Nuju! Come look at this, I think I found-"

SNAP!

"GAH!"

_Wrrzzz!_

_Fwap!_

"_What the-!?" _Nuju swiftly turned around to where Kualus' distressed cry resonated, along with those other strange noises.

But when he did look, he near felt his jaw hit the sand.

"Uuggh…ow…!" Kualus rasped.

The white Rahaga was hanging upside down, his ankles tightly bound by a single rope leading up to a very flexible branch that had suddenly sprung forth from the sand. The rope led down the bobbing branch and led to a boulder lying a few feet off. A large bell was attached to the very top of the branch, all of which was ringing loudly with each of Kualus' movements. And just below Kualus was a now scattered pile of berries. (4)

He had been caught in a trap…

'_But…but how…?' _Nuju thought in utter bewilderment. Instantly his brain kicked into overdrive to try and deduce why this happened and who could have done it.

No one inhabited the city except for Dume, a few stray Rahi, and at times the Rahaga when they decided to stop by. (5) He could instantly count out the Rahi for sure. He at first thought about the other Rahaga, but if that were true, Kualus would have known it was a trap that was set by his colleagues. Then he thought of Dume setting the trap. But that didn't make sense either. Dume had no reason to set traps for food or intruders. For one, no was stupid enough (or like Nuju) to wander down to Metru-nui; the sea was too far from the Coliseum to begin with. It couldn't be to trap Rahi for food either. Nuju and the others brought him food from the surface on a regular monthly basis. (6)

It couldn't have been Dume, it couldn't have been the Rahaga, and it certainly wasn't any Rahi.

So then who…?

_Crrk…!_

"_Wha…?" _Nuju swiftly veered his head away from Kualus and towards the brush inland.

The dead trees and foliage rustled from an unknown cause. Nuju vaguely felt the ground shaking every few seconds, like a Kikanalo was stomping the ground. Various pebbles fell from the cliffs overhead surrounding the foliage, and he could see various birds screeching as they flew out of trees a few meters off, obviously startled.

"Ugh…" Kualus, now out of his daze, seemed to take note of the noise as well and frowned, "Nuju…?"

The thudding was getting closer, the foliage now rustling louder. A tree a few meters off fell over completely, and the sound of a guttural growling was heard, along with a low rumbling. Nuju and Kualus' eyes widened as they both reached the same conclusion.

"Nuju…Nuju, get out of here! Now!" Kualus yelled, his wings now erect and trying to tug himself free of the binds.

Nuju watched his friend struggle, oblivious to Kualus' desire to have him flee. Like hell he was going to leave him here!

Ignoring Kualus' protests, Nuju rushed over to him, taking out a knife from his coat. He started sawing at the rope around the branch to break Kualus free, but no matter how fast he sawed, the rope didn't give.

"Nuju get out of here!" Kualus snapped, his wings beating faster to try and maybe break the rather flexible branch, to no avail.

"_Are you mad!? I'm not leaving you here like this!" _Nuju snapped, _"And stop moving! You're only attracting it!" _

"Urgh! Just get out of here! I'll be fine! I just-!"

Too late.

_CRASH!_

"_**RAAAAWWWRRR**_**!**"

'_Shit…!' _

Swiftly, Nuju veered around to see just what he they were up against, his mind screaming for it not to be a Muaka.

It was a Muaka.

A very, _very _pissed off Muaka. Drool and white foam dripped from its grotesquely crooked maw of jagged teeth, as if its jaw was broken. Its claws, overgrown and jagged to the tip like rookie crafted knives, dug deep crevices into the sand. Moss grew over its back and shoulders, dirt staining its once pristine fur and armor. And by the rabid look in its amber eyes, and the prominent bones pushing through its taught hide, it was _hungry_.

"Nuju…" Kualus started cautiously, eyes wide at the visually upside down Muaka, "Don't…don't move…"

The Muaka growled and pulled back its lips, showing yellowed and broken fangs. Its nostrils flared as it inhaled the air, and Nuju wasn't sure if simply keeping still would do them any good. It was looking directly at them, its crazed eyes seemingly burning into their souls.

Nuju eyed the trap swiftly, his brain going into overdrive to try and quickly assess a way out of this. Now that he was closer, he could see why the rope didn't break as easily as he had thought. It was trap-grade rope. A type of rope that was braided with strands of metal wire to lessen the chance of prey breaking free. And the branch it was wrapped around was a type commonly used in traps. (7) All of it was expertly put together as if by a professional hunter, which again completely confused Nuju. Who had set this trap? And why?

'_Not the time to be wondering about that!' _He thought.

He had to think of a way to get out of this, or at least buy Kualus some time to work his way out of the trap. Nuju looked at his options mentally.

He only had a single knife and his staff, all of which was propped up a few meters away against some rubble. His mask could gain him an advantage, but he had to think of how to use it in a productive way he won't later come to regret. Kualus had his claws, teeth, and a dull knife attached to his hip. Not a lot that could help them. He couldn't just use his mask to throw or restrain the Muaka; it was too heavy. He would collapse from a migraine before they could safely escape. (8)

Scanning the area, a strategy was steadily building up in his head. Once he was sure it had a good chance of getting them out unscathed, or at least alive, Nuju loosened his grip on the rope.

'_This better work…' _he thought.

Nuju ignored his trapped companion and focused his mask on the knife in his hand. Taking a deep breath, the muscles in his arm tightening, he aimed, and threw it.

"Nuju? What are you-!?"

The Muaka suddenly reared up with a blood curdling roar. The dagger Nuju had thrown was now imbedded in its right eye. It writhed and groaned, its massive paws coming up to try and swat the offending weapon out of its eye socket. While it was distracted, Nuju focused back on Kualus and got to work hastily on trying to undo the rope around the Rahaga's ankle.

"What did you just do!?" Kualus snapped.

"_Found a way to save your life or get us both killed, what do you think!?" _Nuju snapped.

His fingers strained to unravel the tight knot of rope around the other's ankles. It didn't help that his hands were shaking, and he kept looking back at the Muaka as if at any minute it would be right in front of his face.

'_Almost…!' _the knot loosened jus the slightest bit around the other's ankles. Maybe now they had a chance to-

"Nuju RUN!"

"_Wha-GAH!"_

Nuju barely had a second before he had his head taken off his shoulders by a massive, dirty paw courtesy of one rabid Muaka, the dagger now missing from its now bleeding eye. He quickly ducked and rolled to the side as the massive paw swung over his head and, ironically, connected with the branch suspending Kualus in midair. The force behind the powerful swipe actually managed to break and splinter the flexible wood, causing Kualus to fall back first into the sand with a grunt.

Nuju shuffled back into the sand as the Muaka growled and loomed over him. He was backed up against the boulder anchoring the trap Kualus was now tangled in. The Muaka's putrid breath sent a nauseous shudder down into his stomach. Whether it was from the smell or the fear overshadowing his body was unknown. All he knew was he was stuck. His staff was too far away from him, Kualus was stuck again and unable to fly, and his only means of defense was essentially useless now – there was nothing nearby he could use with his mask.

Nuju was about to make a last ditch attempt to try his luck at getting away from the Muaka, but was abruptly stopped by the large cat's massive paw pinning him back against the boulder. Panting and his heart racing, the icy Turaga felt a sense of pure dread overcome his body. Was this it? Was this how he was going to die?

He vaguely heard Kualus yelling over at him as he struggled to get out of his binds, but his sense of hearing seemed to be toned down and limited to his own frantic heartbeat and steady breathing.

'_So this is it…' _he thought calmly.

He didn't register Kualus shouting his name. He only focused on the Muaka that was about to end him.

Growling with a foaming maw, the Muaka lunged-

Then reared back with a shrieking roar as a spear plunged into its neck. Nuju didn't have time to be surprised as yet another spear flew from his left and stuck fast to the Muaka's shoulder. Its guttural roar sent a sickening shudder down Nuju's spine, and he was too stunned to move from his position against the boulder.

Kualus was faring no better. He stared as two spears seemed to fly out of nowhere and strike at the big cat's body.

'_What just…?' _Kualus was unable to finish his thought as a blur of black and dark blue flew past his vision and towards the Muaka.

The blur – no – the _person_, clad in in black long coat with a hood, all of which was pulled up over the head, raced towards the Muaka, armed with what looked to be a crowbar and various spears and a bow strapped to his back.

Kicking sand up as he stopped just shy of a few feet next to the Muaka's haunches, he(?) pulled out one of his spears and jabbed it painfully into its back left paw.

The big cat gave another roar of agony, raising its impaled foot and flopping onto its side. It growled as it lifted its foot as close to its front as possible and began trying to yank the spear out with its mouth.

Nuju, too stunned to so much as speak, stared at the black clad being in complete shock and awe. His breath starting to slow down to a calmer rate, Nuju was about to inquire as to who the person was, what he was doing in Metru-nui, why-

Their eyes locked.

Lightning. It was like lightning had suddenly crashed into Nuju's body, prickling his skin and searing his very soul. And yet, it was so cold. Like he was caught in a blizzard, or trapped in ice. He felt paralyzed, completely rooted to his spot and at the mercy of a pair of hell-fire blue irises…

'_What…what is this…?' _he thought. It was all he could do.

He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't stop this…_painful_ feeling of ice and fire flooding his bloodstream, burning and freezing his frantic heart. He was trapped under that gaze, locked behind invisible bars and chained to the spot by those eyes. He was a prisoner, and he didn't even know _why!_

Those burning, cold, sharp eyes were just slightly obscured by overly long thin locks of white-grey bangs that reached down to the bottom of the person's chest. His mouth was covered by a faded black bandana, and the rest of his body was covered by a close-fitting long coat, torn black pants, and overly large clunky boots. His expression conveyed nothing but pure ice and fire. And yet his eyes…(9)

_Save me…_

Nuju jolted as if struck, _'What…?' _

"-I said MOVE!" the being snapped.

Nuju barely had a moment to blink before his wrist was suddenly seized by a small, cold hand and yanked to his feet. His feet were suddenly moving as the corpse-cold hand yanked him into a sprint towards Kualus, all of whom was still stuck in his binds.

"Move it already!" snapped the shaded boy.

"I can't! My wings are caught!" Kualus snapped as the two approached him.

"Ugh, useless!" he snapped.

He was about to kneel down and undo the binds, but stopped when the sound of snapping wood reached his ears. All three swiftly looked up to see the Muaka yank the spear out of its now bloodied paw and crush it in its maw. It growled lowly and slowly pulled back its lips with a guttural growl, ears pinned against its head. It crouched, its body tensing, before it screeched and _charged._

"Damn it you two RUN!" Kualus snapped.

"Tch…" not even fazed, the dark dressed boy merely grabbed his bow and procured and arrow from the bundle tied to his hip.

But this arrow didn't have a sharp tip; it instead had a strange bag that seemed to be made of Rahi hide. But instead of aiming the arrow at the Muaka, he pointed it up to the rocky cliffs above them along the shore.

Nuju was about to protest when it suddenly clicked in his head.

"Shit…!" he snapped, forgoing his bird-speak from shock.

The Muaka was now mere meters away. Inhaling a calm, slow breath, the shaded boy aimed true, and released the quiver, sending the explosives laden arrow into the unstable cliff side.

**BANG!**

Nuju barely managed to activate his mask to stop the fall of large rocks from hitting them, but spared no such mercy on the Muaka. The cat skidded to a halt when it realized the cliff face was coming down, and didn't even get a chance to unleash a shocked shriek before it vanished under the piled rubble.

Silence befell on the trio, whether from shock or relief was a mystery, but it was now quiet.

And just like that, it was over…

Swallowing, Nuju deactivated his mask, dropping the boulders a safe distance away from them all, before averting his wide-eyed gaze to the black clad being before them.

As if sensing his gaze, he turned around to face the two elders. The sea breeze set his hair into a motion of deadly whips, his hood billowing. And yet none of this could be more noted than the look in his eyes. Nuju was once again finding himself wondering just what it was he was feeling from those eyes. And just why, when he looked in those eyes, he could feel a sense of pleading…

The stranger pulled his bandana down off his mouth to rest around his neck. The man – no, the _boy _Nuju noted – gave the two stunned elders a look of pure distain, as if he was looking at something utterly revolting. He turned his head and spat on the sand before averting his gaze back to them.

"It's rude to gape at people, you stupid-jerk." He said.

To be continued…

**X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X**

_A/N~ jesus Christ I suck ass at action scenes. Ugh…_

_1-) If you all saw the third movie (Web of Shadows) you should know what he's referring to XD_

_2-) In 'Legends of Metru-nui' when Teridax was attacking the Toa Metru on the Silver Sea, they did in fact have a few pods fall overboard. They did retrieve them, but hey, who knows? It could happen~_

_3-) Mmm...bone tea XD_

_4-) This type of trap is used mainly to catch smaller game, but can also be used to catch larger animals. I tried looking up the trap name and such, but I couldn't find anything, sue me. I know it's a real trap, I've seen it used before._

_5-) In this, the Rahaga aren't permanent residents of Metru-nui, but are rather nomads. But they regularly stop by in Metru-nui to catch up on things with the others and help out a bit. I honestly don't know too much about them in the actual canon series, but let's just roll with it here peeps. XD_

_6-) This would make sense. I mean, come on, Dume's in a totally wrecked city, he's gotta get his food SOMEWHERE._

_7-) For this particular trap, I do know that young bamboo is often used in it due to its flexibility and durability. We can also assume that, in this, it is in fact bamboo since we do in fact see it in the Mata-nui online game. _

_8-) As I said before in one of my other fics, I strongly consider certain mask powers to be tied very firmly to the physical and mental wearer's being. Masks that require the brain to use would result in headaches or fainting should they be overtaxed, while masks that require physical/body use can experience fatigue and strain if overused. Just throwing that out there, as in this case, Nuju can only lift a certain amount with his mask. Anything too heavy, and the strain will seriously aggravate his mind, thus resulting in headaches or migraines. _

_9-) Guess who~ XD_


End file.
